The forest beyond the kingdom walls are no place for commoners to wander alone or even in groups, not even properly trained knights like Simon should be there. But orders were orders, and he’d listen to his King.

There had been rumors of an alchemist roaming the woods, hiding out in some sort of secret grove. There were reports of illegal magic spurring beyond the city walls and soon people were being caught with potions and brews that were not from the local medicinal man. It was from somewhere far more extreme.

Simon and his unit were meant to investigate but were ambushed at the fall of the sun by men and women who had been exiled from the kingdom — they had created their own community out in the woods and it had become more and more dangerous for the patrolling knights every year.

Simon fought until he couldn’t anymore, through arrows and steel, until he was the only one left standing. His unit had been destroyed and he was now left alone in the middle of the woods — wounded, disoriented and still in danger.

Bleeding and unsteady, he forced himself deeper into the underbrush; clutching his side where a poison laced blade had perfectly sliced through the gap in his armor. The venom spreads fasts, dulling his limbs and fogging his mind at rapid speed. The trees start to blur together, sounds warping and echoing in the distance.

He could only go so far before he collapsed, his armor producing a loud thud against the forest floor.

That’s when you found him.

You had felt the shift in the air, the wards you had set detected a foreign presence somewhere near your workshop — someone was close, too close.

You creep towards the source, fingers itching towards a small vial of sleeping dust in your satchel. You expect raiders or hunters but what you found surprised you. A knight of the realm. Your natural enemy in this world, they had taken people like you and put them down without a second thought.

You should run, you always run. But there was something different about him. Pained groans hissing through his teeth, the way he claws at his side, revealing the blackened veins climbing his side… poison, an instant connection in your mind.

You only hesitant for a second before gripping his armor and using all of your strength to drag him through the foliage. He was heavy, fighting the entire way which only fueled the regret in your stomach more.

Your workshop was half buried into a hillside, protected by ancient runes and vines that would look like nothing to the untrained eye. Hidden in plain sight.

But the inside was beautiful. Like you stepped into a different world. Vials of all types of liquids, some shimmering and some black as night, cauldrons bubbling, dried herbs hanging in bunches from the rafters, and the warm homey smell of lavender and clove.

You lay the knight on a makeshift cot on the ground, stripping him of his upper armor piece by piece to reveal the wound. It was deep, black spreading out like leaking ink beneath his skin, almost giving up at the mere sight of it.

You were risking everything by helping him. More knights will be sent out to look for his unit and especially him when they don’t find him with the rest of the bodies.

But you work on him anyway. It takes days. Grueling. Checking on him every hour of the day and night. Drawing the poison from his blood with old alchemist recipes that had been outlawed decades ago.

He wakes up finally, still rocking a rough and dangerous fever. Simon sits upright quickly before you shove him back down.

“Easy knight, unless you want to end up like the rest of your unit.” You warned, putting the cool rag back on his forehead.

He glares through half-lidded and hazy eyes, hand twitching towards his sword but finding it was gone. He glances around, body suddenly going rigid.

“An alchemist,” his voice is thick, raspy from not using it for a few days and the recovery his body was doing. The word was also laced with something more… hatred. “Don’t expect me to thank you.” He bites out.